#this is another excerpt from my diary
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even if she liked girls, i'm not a girl.
(but yes, i'm a lesbian)
i'm not a boy either. sometimes i'm a woman, but never a man.
people point to clothes and dolling up to force them to perceive me as i want to be perceived, but clothes shift and the threads dig into my skin while makeup itches and makes me too hyperaware of my existence.
it angers me that i can't just be and not be assumed.
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I hope you know there wasn’t a day I didn’t choose you
S //
#love#unrequited love#excerpt from a story i'll never write#you#excerpts from my journal#excerpt from my diary#spilled words#words n stuff#heartache#lovers#useless words#love quotes#words#love letters#life#world#another life#black and white#love lies#spilled ink#excerpt from a book i'll never write#lost#art#heartbreak
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Following the lectures is a debate between the candidates—one topic they were allowed to prepare for, the other is held secret until the last moment and all must debate off the cuff. Nicolo and Sanudo are so terribly enthusiastic about this it makes Cristof worried. He tells Nicolo that he’s too cracked up, he can’t debate anyone. Who is he debating first? Egnazio from Manuzio’s press. He can’t debate the man! He’s a priest! They’re debating Augustine and Aquinas! Cristof is fucked! Nicolo tartly tells him to calm down and declares that Cristof is fine.
And he is fine. Until the second debate which is against Musuro, one of Sanudo’s apparent nemeses and it is on Theocritus. Cristof again says he can’t do it. Nicolo tells him to stop the amateur dramatics and go smear Musuro’s smug arse across the pristine marble floors of the hall. Cristof thinks Nicolo’s approach to loving encouragement could use some work.
Afterwards, Nicolo tells him, ‘It was a fine spectacle.’
Sanudo enthuses, ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’
Cristof, worried, ‘Is that a good thing?’
Nicolo smiles his Nicolo smile.
I love their love and I love what a little maniac Cristof is. Absolute idiot. Bless him.
Sanudo’s just here for the ride.
#i took a tiny 15th century man who has sex with men and gave him problems#The debate-competition for the Chancellery school seat in March 1511 didn't happen but I borrowed from the 1512 competition including#all the names of the compoetators - Sanudo was diligent#Eganzio though withdrew his name so technically he wasn't voted on at the end of the competition but I didn't have that happen because w/e#also we think job interviews are hard now days#back then you had to give a public lecture - including in front of your competition for the teaching position - then you had to debate#one another extemporaniously and people showed up from all over the city to watch and heckle#then you had to sit there as votes were read out so you knew how you did in comparison to the other people#unlike in the united states house of reps there were no re-dos though#oh wait reread the remaining bit of this scene and yes Egnazio does withdraw his name because he doesn't think he has the votes#which is what he actually did in real life#the venetians#writing#my writing#marin sanudo#idk not his diary excerpts or anything but he's mentioned#because I have to give a shoutout to Venice's pre-eminent diarist
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random excerpts from lord byron’s diaries that feel like tumblr posts from the 1800s
“My mind is a fragment.”
“I am too lazy to shoot myself.”
“Here I am, alone, instead of dining at Lord H.'s, where I was asked—but not inclined to go any where. Hobhouse says I am growing a ‘loup garou,’ a solitary hobgoblin. True.”
“Sleepy, and must go to bed.”
“Whether ‘Hell will be paved with’ those ‘good intentions,’ I know not.”
“Got up—redde the Morning Post containing [..] a paragraph on me as long as my pedigree, and vituperative, as usual.”
“I wonder what the devil is the matter with me! I can do nothing, and fortunately there is nothing to do.”
“Last night, party at Lansdowne House. Tonight, party at Lady Charlotte Greville's—deplorable waste of time, and something of temper. Nothing imparted—nothing acquired—talking without ideas:—if any thing like thought in my mind, it was not on the subjects on which we were gabbling. Heigho!—and in this way half London pass what is called life. Tomorrow there is Lady Heathcote's—shall I go? yes—to punish myself for not having a pursuit.”
“What a strange thing is the propagation of life! A bubble of Seed which may be spilt in a whore’s lap – or in the orgasm of a voluptuous dream – might (for aught we know) have formed a Caesar or a Buonaparte.”
“Oh that face!—by te, Diva potens Cypri, I would, to be beloved by that woman, build and burn another Troy.”
“I have found increasing upon me (without sufficient cause at times) the depression of Spirits (with few intervals), which I have some reason to believe constitutional or inherited.”
“I shall soon be six-and-twenty (January 22d., 1814). Is there any thing in the future that can possibly console us for not being always twenty-five?”
“Past events have unnerved me; and all I can now do is to make life an amusement, and look on while others play. After all, even the highest game of crowns and sceptres, what is it?”
“Redde a little—wrote notes and letters, and am alone, which Locke says is bad company. ‘Be not solitary, be not idle.’—Um!—the idleness is troublesome; but I can't see so much to regret in the solitude. The more I see of men, the less I like them. If I could but say so of women too, all would be well. Why can't I? I am now six-and-twenty; my passions have had enough to cool them; my affections more than enough to wither them,—and yet—and yet—always yet and but—‘Excellent well, you are a fishmonger—get thee to a nunnery.’—‘They fool me to the top of my bent.’” (Quotations from Hamlet)
“I wish I could settle to reading again,—my life is monotonous, and yet desultory. I take up books, and fling them down again. I began a comedy, and burnt it because the scene ran into reality;—a novel, for the same reason. In rhyme, I can keep more away from facts; but the thought always runs through, through ... yes, yes, through. I have had a letter from Lady Melbourne—the best friend I ever had in my life, and the cleverest of women.”
“As to opinions, I don't think politics worth an opinion.”
“Tells Dallas that my rhymes are very popular in the United States. These are the first tidings that have ever sounded like Fame to my ears—to be redde on the banks of the Ohio!”
“This journal is a relief. When I am tired—as I generally am—out comes this, and down goes every thing. But I can't read it over; and God knows what contradictions it may contain. If I am sincere with myself (but I fear one lies more to one's self than to any one else), every page should confute, refute, and utterly abjure its predecessor.”
“Mr. Murray has offered me one thousand guineas for The Giaour and The Bride of Abydos. I won't—it is too much, though I am strongly tempted, merely for the say of it. No bad price for a fortnight's (a week each) what?—the gods know—it was intended to be called poetry.”
“I will not be the slave of any appetite. If I do err, it shall be my heart, at least, that heralds the way. Oh, my head—how it aches?—the horrors of digestion! I wonder how Buonaparte's dinner agrees with him?”
“If I had to live over again, I do not Know what I would change in my life, unless it were for not to have lived at all. All history and experience, and the rest, teaches us that the good and evil are pretty equally balanced in this existence, and that what is most to be desired is an easy passage out of it. What can it give us but years? and those have little of good but their ending.”
#i should have posted this for his bday#lord byron#byron#romanticism#english romanticism#diaries#history#dark academia#funny#tumblr memes#byron memes#geneva squad#poetry#poems#poets#writing#english literature#literature#lit#literature aesthetic#dark academia aesthetic#gothic literature#lgbt#aesthetic#art#literature memes#lit memes#history memes#percy shelley#mary shelley
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Someone's Mum
For @hinnymicrofic -Day 20 "Mom"
The poster unfurled, a Quidditch star winked with sass and smile
“Lucky him,” they’d say in passing
She never cared what they said
But Albus was two and he didn’t speak
“Are you miserable?” Words raw, a fear hidden, only uttered under the blanket of night.
“No,” she dared whisper, a confession in the dark. “When I’m there, I’m thinking about here. When I’m here, I’m thinking about there. Not miserable… mediocre. I never half-arsed anything that mattered and now I’m mediocre.”
Her fingers sought his, tangled in sheets.
“I catch a Quaffle and I miss the boys and I miss the hoop and I’m not crushed because my dream has become just another day with another Quaffle and another hoop and another number on another board and I miss miss miss when it mattered.”
Who was she without it?
Someone’s mum
James turned the page
another and another and another
“Again!”
another and another and another
“And down once more, but not so fast- “ *
Her shoulder needed to be iced
“They’re on their way to bed at last- “
How many times did they have to hear this story?
“The day is done they say goodnight- “
How many times would they want to?
“And somebody turns off the light- “
How many nights until they were too old
and she would
miss miss miss when it mattered
“The moon is high- “
Albus was two and still didn’t speak
“The sea is deep- “
Thumb in mouth, his green eyes followed her finger tracing the words
“They rock- “
James nestled closer, elbow jabbing the Bludger-sized bruise on her hip
“And rock- “
It hurt
Her finger trembled as it traced
“And rock- “
Albus, two, not talking, lifted enormous green eyes to hers
“To sleep- “
Green eyes that spoke sonnets
His Mum
He grinned
She was the center of his world
“What can I do?” Never one for words, he had long ago learned to ask. “What can I say?”
Sheets rustled as their fingers laced.
“What will you see, Harry?” She muttered. “I know what everyone else will see and I’ll pretend it won’t matter. But what will you see when you look at me?”
He rolled on top of her, cupping her face between his hands.
“The woman who bat-bogeys reporters and fought in a war and loves so fiercely her heart swells and splits and bleeds.”
Soft kisses to chin, cheek, eyelid.
“The effortlessly funny companion who can commentate two snails crossing the porch and have us all cheering the one with the hilariously tragic backstory.”
He lowered his forehead to hers.
“The girl who wrote in the diary who married the boy who slept in a cupboard. Neither of them have anything to prove, Gin.”
A tear escaped, rolling into her hairline.
“A Mum?”
She dared to whisper, a confession in the dark.
Irrelevant to the world
The world to three
“I’ll see you, Ginny. And I will love you until my last breath.”
The day was done, the edges curled
The Quidditch star winked as the poster furled
*Excerpt from “The Going to Bed Book” by Sandra Boynton
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MERAAAAA i love the diary formats you do, seeing fics from characters perspective is my FAVORITE THING and you pull it off so well !!!! i hope you finish it so we can see floyds silly thought process (and your beautiful writing) !!
AAAA THANK YOUUUU!!!! >w< I love writing them a lot. Reading from the character’s pov in first person is so immersive and exciting, especially when it’s formatted to seem as if you’re peering into their diary. A most private space indeed!!!! There are so many characters who I want to write with this format. >:) I’d love to write for Jade’s diary next because the reason he and Floyd have to use diaries in the first place is entirely different and yet his reason is a bit more horrifying than Floyd’s. ;;;
Hehe I love all of the possibilities that stem from diary format. Here’s another excerpt from the wip!!! :D
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happy Valentine’s Day! may i present a fic that isn’t romantic in any way? :p this is an idea that’s been rolling around in my head for a while: what exactly an average day for luke on ahch-to would look like, but filtered through a darkly humorous lens. probably the only fic i’ll ever write that could be considered fully canon-compliant. no warnings apart from a mention of “self-gratification” and an overall black comedy tone. enjoy!
a mock-up of reason and order
The following is an excerpt from a diary that was retrieved from the Temple Island of Ahch-To, written by Jedi Master Luke Skywalker during his exile from 28-34 ABY:
32 ABY, the day is irrelevant.
It occurs to me that, in all the time I’ve been on this unfindable rock, I’ve never actually laid out how i spend my days. And I’m stuck inside thanks to yet another storm, so…
6:00: Wake up. Curse the fact that I haven’t yet “bought the moisture farm,” to borrow the Tatooinian phrase.
6:25: Cold bath. They’re all cold.
7:20: Fish for daily food supply. I bet if anyone was around to see this they’d think it was wizard.
8:00: Visit the Thala-sirens for…you know what, this isn’t important, we can skip it.
8:30: You’ll never guess what’s for breakfast—fish!
9:30: Scrub porg shit off the hut, again.
10:20: Run through a mental roulette of my greatest failures (morning).
11:00: Greet any Caretakers who happen to pass by. I’ve figured out some basic phrases in the Lanai language and we are able to communicate reasonably well. (If I am in fact calling them rotting Wharlithan cunts, they’re polite enough not to say so.)
12:30: You’ll never guess what’s for lunch—fish.
1:00: Hurl stones into the cruel and unforgiving sea. Ponder the futility of life.
1:25: Hike up to the tall cliffs. Aggravate chronic lumbago.
2:30: Stare.
3:15: Page through the sacred texts. If you see that I’ve played hangman in the margins, no you haven’t.
5:30: You’ll never guess what’s for dinner…
6:00: Masturbate, not because I receive any pleasure from the act, but because I have to keep my dexterity somehow. Will use my cybernetic if I feel fancy.
6:40: Run through a mental roulette of my greatest failures (evening).
8:00: Used to be my allotted daily crying fit. I now use it to manscape my beard.
9:00: Play solitaire. Lose.
10:00: Bedtime. Fall asleep pondering the design of a shirt which reads “the Force won’t let me die.”
#luke skywalker#the last jedi#now you know why he looked so annoyed at rey when she showed up: she interrupted his staring time :p#my fic
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TDIOBCB challenge - day 8:
First Kiss - Baela and Aemond during the Tourney of Harrenhal in 142 AC
"Years have passed since I began keeping this diary, and now it seems I've reached its final pages. The first time the tip of my pen touched the pristine surface of these pages was on the day of a wedding, and I scribbled a few confused and nonsensical words, unaware that the events of those days, now so distant - which seemed to my young eyes at the time - would lead the woman I am now to witness another great union.
I have a blurred memory of the reactions stirred in the hearts of my family by the unexpected arrival of my uncle Aemond, perhaps due to the little attention I paid him, so great was my joy in dancing and showing off my gaudy dresses. Yet even then, in my tender childhood ignorance, I understood that his presence had left an indelible impression on the people around me.
Especially on my sister Baela, who, from the day of his departure after the wedding, seemed to have become a completely different person: I do not know if already then in her tumultuous soul the seed of love had taken root, but with the wisdom of now, I am sure that the sight of our uncle, returned after so many years of exile, had caused in her a very violent disturbance.
What impressions my uncle had of her, however, I was never given to know, and truthfully, I do not think I want to find out: whatever his mood at the time of the events, it is easy to guess, yet within me, I am sure that as much as he claimed to detest and despise us, Baela must have impressed him, and not a little. Whether positively or negatively, I cannot say.
Yet, whatever this impression was, it is undeniable that it must have been burning, something that ultimately drove him, many years later, to join her and never leave her again.
Perhaps all of this is just my conjecture, or perhaps the Gods truly had a plan in store for them from the beginning that we did not understand; whatever the truth may be, I am glad to write that in the end, everything turned out for the best."
- from the Diary of Princess Visenya, dated the 3rd day of the 3rd month of the year 143 AC"
(an excerpt from TDIOBCB unreleased chapter 5)
(warning: these illustrations are inspired by an AU Divergence and have nothing to do with canon (book or tv show) events and are not meant to be reposted outside of their contest)
#illustration#artists on tumblr#chiara cognigni's art#chiara's art#digital illustration#digital art#fanart#art#the doom in our blood comes back#tdiobcb#pre asoiaf#asoiaf fanart#asoiaf fanfic#a song of ice and fire#baela x aemond#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#aemond fanfiction#ewan mitchell#baela targaryen#baela the glorius#au divergence#nothing to do with canon#dark academia#dark aesthetic#fanfic ao3#fanfiction#clip studio paint
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hi! i just found your blog :) love your commonplace book scans! if you don’t mind me asking, could you give a more in-depth explanation of what commonplacing is exactly and what your process is? i’m intrigued and considering getting into it but i wouldn’t even know where to start! thanks a lot xx
Absolutely! So my commonplace is specifically all movies, qoutes, articles, tumblr/Instagram posts, book excerpts, etc. that either resonated with me or I think I'll want to reference later. That is the heart of what common placing is - saving things for later physically rather than digitally.
Some of these just pop up in my feed, and I'll hit the like or save button. If it's an article, it usually first pops up as a preview on my Instagram and I'll open the full article on my desktop than bookmark it in a specific folder for common placing.
Sometimes, when I want to actively find something out (say, about if perfume is really bad for the environment, or I want to look at author interviews because I just loved a book) I will go out and search for that information.
Then, usually once a week I compile everything I'd like to print - i print the sources bc my handwriting is messy - into a word document formatted for two columns. I try and hold off printing until i have a full page worth, or two full page worth.
For images, I have another word document (these are printed in color, and i usually have to jigsaw to fit as many images on the page as possible, so different word document). Same thing, I try and wait until I have a full page to print. Usually x2 a month. I sometimes will print with an HP sprocket but the quality is really bad and the pictures are thick so, it's for when I'm out of printer ink or I think a photo will look okay with a sorta...uneven look.
I use just a Staples brand journal, TruRed. Cheap and easy. I draw a line at the top so I can write the date, and in the future if I want to tag it with a colored sticker or something, I can. My layouts usually include divided space on either the left or right of a page. The article goes in the bigger open space, and then the source (always write your source!!) and any commentary goes in the smaller margins.
Commentary is usually why I wanted to print it, what it reminds me of or makes me think about, etc. What I think the argument was missing, etc. Can be as little or as much as you like. As emotional and deep or as plain-jane as you like. There are no rules!
I trim printed text and images with a 12 inch trimmer bc I've got wobbly hands, but some people just use a little (blanking on the name) exacto knife? Any 12 inch trimmer will do mine is expensive but I also scrapbook so I use it all the time.
I paste things in using a tape runner (again, because I scrapbook and found a tape runner and my mom sells scrapbook supplies they're very accessible to me). Some people use tape, washi tape, glue sticks (liquid glue I've never seen).
And yeah, then I just decorate and play around. It doesn't have to be pretty. It can be really pretty if you want - I'm motivated by aesthetics, so, I like mine to be a little pretty.
If you'd like to see how I actually put it together and why I print certain things, my YouTube channel is the place to go.
Some people tape in movie tickets, receipts from where they shopped or ate, pictures from daily life.
Some people mix common-placing and journaling, so including diary entries about their day or about a topic they love, or their thoughts and feelings (I keep mine in a separate journal, explained in this video).
Some people mix common-placing with bullet journal or planning. Some combine all three!
At the end I just use a printer scanner (HP Envy 5500, cheap) and post them online that way bc I love the look.
People who have other styles you might try and look at are @petite-gloom (an OG who inspired me and many others) @fakelavender , @teddybearsticker .
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The second part of my new fanfic in The Forgotten Years series, which I am writing with @faerywhimsy, is now done, and the entire fic is now complete! Please check it out over on AO3.
Title: Half-Forgotten Dreams
Pairings: Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Louis (past), Armand/Louis (past), Armand/Daniel/Louis (past), Lestat/Louis (background/past)
Summary: Though his interview with Louis is now at its end, Daniel continues to regain memories of his past that reveal things he’s not prepared to face.
End of Season Two — Show Canon with Book Canon Elements — Daniel’s POV
ACT II (of II) — 17,507 words — Mature — Completed
Warning: This story might contain possible spoilers for the end of Season Two (as it references later books in the series). If that is something you may want to avoid, please wait to read this story later.
* * *
Excerpt:
Al Shafar Tower, Dubai, United Arab Emirates, June 28, 2022, after sunset
Two days before Louis attempts to end his life via sunlight exposure.
Armand explained to Daniel, as they walked along a long hallway that led toward the back of the penthouse, that the Al Shafar Tower began its construction in 2006.
Armand, using his human alias of “Rashid” during that time before construction began, had been one of the main investors in the building project before the ground had even been broken for its construction.
Armand, at that time, had purchased all the penthouse space in the building, along with a sizable portion of the basement spaces, which included a private entrance into the basement space. Along with the design for a private elevator that ran from the penthouse directly down to that owned basement area.
Construction of the tower was completed in 2009.
All of this Armand explained to Daniel as he now led Daniel to that private elevator, located in a secluded corner of the penthouse space.
“And what exactly are you keeping in this private basement area?” Daniel asked as they entered the elevator that would take them down to the private basement level. “Is it where The Farm is located? You and Louis both have yet to tell me anything about that little . . . whatever it is.”
“No,” Armand replied evenly. “The Farm is located in another place. The basement holds something much more … important. At least, for Louis,” he added, a note of resignation having been added in his tone.
“For Louis,” Daniel repeated. “The same Louis whom you told me a few hours ago was taking time to rest today?”
That day’s interview time did not have Louis come to talk with Daniel at all. Armand, once again, had told Daniel that Louis was taking the day to rest after the emotional remembrances of the day before. Just as he had done a week before when Daniel had first been given Claudia’s diaries to read.
So that whole day, it had just been Armand and Daniel on their own. And Armand had told Daniel, in great detail — and with cool detachment — things he felt were significant to tell Daniel about his past; how he was first turned in the city of Venice, as well as his kidnapping soon after, and being indoctrinated into a cult of vampires called ‘The Children of Darkness,’ of which he became the leader of the Paris chapter of.
How then, 300 years later, he’d first met The Vampire Lestat, who had turned the only life Armand had known for so long upside down; resulting in the end of that coven, and the beginning of a new one — the Théâtre des Vampires.
And then, finally, his role leading up to the trial and execution of Claudia by the Théâtre des Vampires.
“Louis did take time to rest today,” Armand explained. He continued to face forward in the elevator, not looking at Daniel as he spoke. “But during that time, he likes to come down to the basement level and spend time down here as well.”
The elevator speakers announced that they had arrived at the basement level.
“And why would Louis want to spend time resting in a basement?” Daniel asked, skeptically, as the elevator doors began to open.
With one arm, Armand held the doors open and, with a tilt of his head, indicated Daniel should exit first, only saying “See for yourself.”
[ Read on AO3 ]
#Daniel Molloy#Armand#The Vampire Armand#The Devil's Minion#Devil's Minion#Armand x Daniel#Armand/Daniel#armandaniel#Daniel x Armand#Daniel/Armand#Louis de Pointe du Lac#Lestat de Lioncourt#Lestat/Louis#Daniel Malloy#Interview with the Vampire#amc interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire amc#amc iwtv#iwtv#iwtv fanfic#iwtv fanfiction#vampire chronicles#the vampire chronicles#vc fanfic#iwtv show#show canon with book elements#show canon with book spoilers#AO3#fanfiction
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okay so since you've liked my post about the fake fic tag game, as my fav author of an on going fic, I shall bestow you with these tags:
regency!everlark, bestfriend's brother!peeta (maybe madge's?), slowburn, suppressed tension, ball of the season
just because i'm intrigued how you'll write some regency era with your creative writing style. Love ya!
Oh thank you, that is so sweet! And I love Regency!Everlark so this is fun! I did take a little bit of liberty with the best friend's brother, but given the language they used back in the Regency era, Madge would still call him her brother. And for those of you who don't know yet, this is from the fake fic ask game.
Title
Summary: At twenty-two years old and with no prospects, Katniss Everdeen's life is going the way of the governess, though she far prefers that work to marrying a gambler, cheater, or bore. Her dearest friend Madge Mellark, however, is certain that if Katniss comes with Madge and her husband to Town, that she can find her a match before Caesar Flickerman's end of the season ball. Katniss agrees to go to prove everyone--her friend, her sister, her mother--that there is no one who could tempt her to marriage. In Town, Katniss is not the only one Madge is helping search for a spouse. Madge's brother-in-law, Peeta, is finished with university and tasked by his mother to find a rich heiress to supplement the income of a second son or else be cut off from his inheritance entirely. Together, they enter a pact to protect one another from horrendous matches and obtain information about their prospects. Only when Peeta meets Glimmer Fairchild, a rich heiress with seemingly no flaw, does Katniss begin to realize that there is one man whom she could accept as a husband, but he could never accept her.
Excerpt:
Mr. Peeta Mellark stepped in front of Katniss, his stocky build blocking her slight one from the sight of Mr. Cato Thompson. She waited as still as possible until he continued past them, into the crowds of others at the assembly hall.
"This shall be the last dance of the evening, so you have successfully avoided Mr. Thompson," Peeta said. "I expect that in your diary tonight, you might properly credit me with the role of a wall you took vigil behind."
"Suppose I do not keep a diary?" Katniss asked, a challenging eyebrow raised up.
"Then in your letter to your dear sister," Peeta said. "For the way you speak of her, you must be writing her daily."
"I should, if your sister did not keep potential suitors in the drawing room all morning."
"Now that I am returned, we shall be sharing her attention on that matter," Peeta said. "So I am certain you shall have time to tell your sister of my usefulness to you."
Katniss observed Peeta and his somber expression at the turn of his mentioning the pursuit of a wife. She knew her disagreeable nature made the prospect of matrimony far from compelling, but what had he to fear? If he could speak with her all evening, then he could be happy with nearly any woman there was.
"The bonds of marriage coming on you too swift from the university?" Katniss asked.
"I have not ever feared that," Peeta said. "Except that my mother has in mind the sort of woman I am to marry, and our opinions on the matter do not match."
"Then I shall be your wall, as you are mine," Katniss cried. Then she looked down at her figure that had been called sickly more than once and and said, "Or, perhaps a fence will do?"
Peeta laughed. "Though your figure is small, you are stronger than any fortress, and I am grateful to your protection."
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if the multiverse is real,
i hope there’s one with us.
one where we never split up
and we have a big, beautiful life
together.
one where we hop in our car
and move to a town in van.
one where pinky promises were fulfilled
and the 2am facetime calls
turned into rolling over to see you sleeping beside
me.
one where we’re dancing in the kitchen,
to the same songs,
while making dinner together.
one where we got to see my mom love you.
one where you look at me
and tell me
how much you love me
rather than how much you don’t.
one where you’re delicate with my heart.
i hope there’s another life
with us in it.
with me and you
staring at the beautiful sunset
thanking our stars for bringing us together.
if the multiverse is real i hope there’s one where you loved me back
— S
#multiverse#love#spilled ink#unrequited love#never over you#excerpt from a story i'll never write#you#spilled words#lost#words n stuff#another life#excerpt from my diary#lovers#heartache#him#heartbreak#spilled heart#love quotes#art#come home#heartsbreak#useless words#excerpt from a book i'll never write#excerpts from my journal#i love you#heartstrings#love letters
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Time to address the Halcyon Green-shaped elephant in the room aka let me explain to you why I think it’s canon even though it seems like it should not be aka another installment of Tinfoilhatting With Fsinger
I’m really sorry I could not think of a better title. Hope you’re intrigued enough to follow me in this journey anyway.
So. The thing is.
The Halcyon story, taken as it is, does not gel with TOA at all.
And not because it’s OOC for Apollo to have done what Halcyon says he’s done to him… Although I think it is. I think an argument can and should be made – and has been made by @flightfoot before – that this story, taken as it is, is essentially… incompatible with Apollo’s characterization in every other scrap of the RRverse he appears in. (This story, and also the Harpocrates story, which I won’t examine here because it deserves its own post. For now I’ll just say it’s interesting to note that it’s the two additions to Apollo’s background that Rick invented out of whole cloth that share this peculiarity, and I don’t think it’s by mistake).
But whether the Halcyon story breaks the internal consistency of Apollo’s characterization or not is a matter of secondary importance in the face of the fact that the Halcyon story breaks the internal consistency of the TOA narrative as a whole.
Take this excerpt from The Diary Of Luke Castellan:
“How long have you been here?” I asked.
Halcyon shrugged listlessly. The monster spoke for him: “I have lost count. Decades? Because my father is the god of oracles, I was born with the curse of seeing the future. Apollo warned me to keep quiet. He told me I should never share what I saw because it would anger the gods. But many years ago…I simply had to speak. I met a young girl who was destined to die in an accident. I saved her life by telling her the future.”
I tried to focus on the old man, but it was hard not to look at the monster’s mouth—those black lips, the slavering bone-plated jaws.
“I don’t get it…” I forced myself to meet Halcyon’s eyes. “You did something good. Why would that anger the gods?”
“They don’t like mortals meddling with fate,” the leucrota said. “My father cursed me. He forced me to wear these clothes, the skin of Python, who once guarded the Oracle of Delphi, as a reminder that I was not an oracle. He took away my voice and locked me in this mansion, my boyhood home. Then the gods set the leucrotae to guard me. Normally, leucrotae only mimic human speech, but these are linked to my thoughts. They speak for me. They keep me alive as bait, to lure other demigods. It was Apollo’s way of reminding me, forever, that my voice would only lead others to their doom.”
An angry coppery taste filled my mouth. I already knew the gods could be cruel. My deadbeat dad had ignored me for fourteen years. But Halcyon Green’s curse was just plain wrong. It was evil.
Now think back on all the times Apollo compares Nero to Zeus or even Kronos, and all the times he does not include himself too as a term of comparison.
Remember how Apollo equated Nero warning Meg her disobedience would “make him unleash the Beast” to Zeus warning his children to not “get on the wrong side of my lightning bolts”, rightfully recognizing that they are the exact same kind of manipulative abdication to personal responsibility + shifting of the blame onto the injured party that’s a staple of the classic abuser’s playbook? Well, at the same time as he noted that, he was omitting to add that he himself had threatened Halcyon in an almost identical manner, telling his son that to disobey him would “anger the gods”.
And not only was Apollo omitting that, he was explicitly equating himself to Lu instead. Lu, who, yes, was a cog in the abusive machine that kept Meg trapped, but was so against her own wishes, because she really had no other choice, no better options. Lu, who only ever tried to help Meg survive. Who jumped at the chance to help set Meg free as soon as it was offered to her, even knowing that Meg’s freedom would likely come at the cost of her own life.
Remember how Apollo mentally tuned out Nero’s villain monologue right in the middle of the ‘Top 100 Times Apollo Has Failed As A Parent’ section, ensuring that we, the readers, would not risk learning about Halcyon even in this manner?
Because Apollo is the narrator of TOA. He’s the one who chooses what to let us know, and what information he wants to withhold from us.
Bearing this in mind, doesn’t the thought that he’d purposely choose to bury the Halcyon story fill you with rage? It sure has that effect on me! :)))
(Yes, those are angry smiles in case you couldn’t tell.)
It’s painfully clear, right from the very beginning of THO, that Apollo’s not oblivious to the nature and mechanics of abuse. Especially abuse perpetrated by parents on their children. He knows exactly what that is and how it works. He calls it by name. He explains it to us and to Meg, repeatedly. He points fingers. At several people.
Never at himself.
Oh, he easily admits to being a “terrible father”. He expresses regret and apologizes for it multiple times. But the implication, all through the 5 books that make up the TOA series, is that he’s guilty of neglect, not of active abuse.
And we know, even though Apollo never even tries to defend himself, that the neglect is not really a free choice on his part. He DOES want to be there for his children. But he can’t. He’s not allowed to. The laws of non interference forbid it, and the consequences of disobeying Olympus’s laws… well the whole series is an example of how dire they can be.
‘Hey, if we don’t get out of this –’
‘None of that talk,’ I chided.
‘Yeah, but I wanted to tell you, I’m glad we had some time together. Like … time time.’
His words warmed me even more than Paul Blofis’s lasagne.
I knew what he meant. While I’d been Lester Papadopoulos, I hadn’t spent much time with Austin, or any of the people I’d stayed with, really, but it had been more than we’d ever spent together when I was a god. [...]
I was tempted to promise we’d do this more often if we survived, but I’d learned that promises are precious. If you’re not absolutely sure you can keep them, you should never make them [...].
So despite how much he wants to – and we know how much he wants to because he tells us, because by the end of the series he’s not hiding it anymore – Apollo can’t promise Austin that they’ll spend more time together, even if they both survive. The uncertainty has nothing to do with the fact that they are currently facing death. Apollo makes it crystal clear.
Right after his triumphant return on Olympus, where he’s welcomed with full honors, he still doesn’t dare state plainly his desire to go back to visit his children and all the mortals who have helped him along the way. “I’ll visit some old friends,” he says, fully knowing how that will be interpreted, and silently accepts Dionysus’ contribution in muddying the waters even further.
I don’t say this to absolve him. It’s right of Apollo to acknowledge that he’s failed his children. That he should have tried more, and harder, to be there for them anyway. That he must try more and harder NOW. And he does.
But none of the above addresses the Halcyon situation at all. The Halcyon situation is simply not the same.
The closest the TOA narrative ever gets to forcing Apollo to tackle a comparable sort of issue is when it introduces Trophonius, the only other son of Apollo whom we see harbor any kind of resentment toward his father… but even in Trophonius’ case, Apollo is guilty of inaction, not of taking active, violent action against his son.
Granted, there’s good reason to suspect that in Trophonius’s time the rules against divine intervention weren’t yet as strict as they are in the modern age, so Apollo does not have that excuse for his inaction there. And Apollo himself admits there was some sort of punitive intent on his part: he felt Trophonius “deserved to face the consequences” of his bad choices. But even considering all this… the Trophonius situation and the Halcyon situation are still light years apart in their substance.
Trophonius used the talent and the opportunities to make it shine that he’d gotten from his father (we can certainly add nepotism to the list of Apollo’s crimes) to fraud and rob his clients, and was left to deal on his own with the fallout of being discovered.
Halcyon was admonished by Apollo to never use the talent he’d inherited, and chose to disregard that admonition to save the life of a little girl. Something which by the way had zero negative consequences that we know of. For this, Apollo personally took it upon himself to actively punish him, by walling him up in his own house and cursing him to become the twisted instrument of death of countless innocent children for the rest of his days.
The two above things… are not the same.
One might even say the two above things stand in contradiction one with the other, but again that’s not the argument I’m making right now. My point is Apollo’s regret for refusing to help Trophonius and Agamethus can’t even begin to cover what Apollo did to Halcyon.
There is nothing in the whole of TOA that can be construed as even just… a viable proxy to at the very least obliquely address the Halcyon story, and what it implies about Apollo as a god, as a person, and as a parent.
And no, Apollo’s memory problems aren’t a good enough excuse for sidestepping this reckoning, because
that only works if we assume the Halcyon story is a single isolated incident and not representative of a pattern of behavior on Apollo’s part… which brings us right back to the idea that it’s actually OOC for Apollo to have done what Halcyon says he’s done to him. And
at the end of the series Apollo gets all of his godly brain power back. And what happens then? He condemns one final, definitive time Zeus’s and Nero’s treatment of their children without even so much as hinting that he himself has been guilty of exactly the same behavior in the past. Not even the distant past, but a few decades ago at most!
Again I ask: doesn’t that fill you with rage? :))
And yet the narrative contract here explicitly requires us to buy into Apollo’s honesty of intentions. No, there is no guarantee that he will manage to keep his promises. There is no guarantee that from now on he will do everything right either. But we are supposed to at least believe that he WANTS to. At the end of the series, Apollo literally asks us to put our faith and trust in him.
But how can we do that in the face of him choosing to never come clean about the Halcyon thing?
We can’t.
So. Where am I going with this? Am I arguing that the novella should be expunged from canon after all?
No, as stated in the title, I am not. There is a very simple way to reconcile the Halcyon novella with the story that is told in TOA, the Apollo that we hear about in the Halcyon novella with the Apollo we got to know in the 5 books that star him as both protagonist and narrator. All we need to do is let ourselves consider the possibility that Halcyon's punishment… was not Apollo's choice.
Yes, Apollo was the one to enact it, there’s no doubt about that. But he wasn’t the one who came up with it. He wasn’t the one who wanted it.
And the clues are there.
All throughout the series, there is one character who is particularly fearful of prophecies. Who condemned Apollo to his own punishment at the end of HOO by citing as a reason that he'd been too quick to name a new Pythia who could speak the future into existence. Who could plausibly have taken issue with Halcyon’s one single act of interference specifically, because it might not look like it but Halcyon saving that little girl's life is the first domino falling in the long chain that will lead to Luke allying with Kronos, the second Titanomachy, and Olympus' stability being threatened thrice in less than a decade. The character whose personal symbols pop up in key moments of the story: the goat Amalthea, the aegis replica destined to Thalia, his own daughter.
“Prophecies,” Apollo tells Meg in THO, rather vehemently, “are the catalysts for every important event—every quest or battle, disaster or miracle, birth or death. Prophecies don’t simply foretell the future. They shape it! They allow the future to happen.”
Zeus takes this to mean that if he can just stop prophecies from being uttered he can prevent any problem from materializing.
Frank looked at Zeus. ‘Um, sir, Your Majesty, can’t you gods just pop over there with us? You’ve got the chariots and the magic powers and whatnot.’
‘Yes!’ Hazel said. ‘We defeated the giants together in two seconds. Let’s all go –’
‘No,’ Zeus said flatly.
‘No?’ Jason asked. ‘But, Father –’
Zeus’s eyes sparked with power, and Jason realized he’d pushed his dad as far as he could for today … and maybe for the next few centuries.
‘That’s the problem with prophecies,’ Zeus growled. ‘When Apollo allowed the Prophecy of Seven to be spoken, and when Hera took it upon herself to interpret the words, the Fates wove the future in such a way that it had only so many possible outcomes, so many solutions. You seven, the demigods, are destined to defeat Gaia. We, the gods, cannot.’
According to Zeus, prophecies constrain the future. They lock people into a predetermined course of action, a predetermined outcome. They take away people’s ability to choose.
There’s a whole debate to be had on whether Zeus is right or not to think so – and a whole other debate to be had on top of that one on whether Zeus truly believes this is the case or just chooses to delude himself that it is because doing so absolves him of responsibility – but for the moment what matters is that Apollo disagrees with him.
‘Zeus was already angry with me for appointing that new girl, Rachel Dare, as my Oracle. Zeus seems to think I hastened the war with Gaia by doing so, since Rachel issued the Prophecy of Seven as soon as I blessed her. But prophecy doesn’t work that way! [...]’
Apollo thinks of prophecy as a guide, not a prison. Ultimately, it’s still up to each individual to make their own choices:
“The only other person I’ve ever known to have this, er, firewood problem, back in the old days, was this prince named Meleager. His mom got the same kind of prophecy when he was a baby. But she never even told Meleager about the firewood. She just hid it and let him live his life. He grew up to be kind of a privileged, arrogant brat.”
Hazel held Frank’s hand with both of hers. “Frank could never be like that.”
“I know,” I said. “Anyway, Meleager ended up killing a bunch of his relatives. His mom was horrified. She went and found the piece of firewood and threw it in the fire. Boom. End of story.”
Hazel shuddered. “That’s horrible.”
“The point is, Frank’s family was honest with him. His grandmother told him the story of Juno’s visit. She let him carry his own lifeline. She didn’t try to protect him from the hard truth. That shaped who he is. [...] By burning his own tinder, he kind of…I don’t know, started a new fire with it. He’s in charge of his own destiny now. Well, as much as any of us are.
Apollo really believes in people’s right to make their own choices. He believes in people’s right to take responsibility for those choices too. But to be able to do that, people need to be informed.
“Die,” I repeated.
“Yeah.”
“Not disappear, not wouldn’t come back, not suffer defeat.”
“Nope. Die. Or more accurately, three letters, starts with D.”
“Not dad, then,” I suggested. “Or dog.”
One fine blond eyebrow crept above the rim of his glasses. “If you seek out the emperor, one of you will dog? No, Apollo, the word was die.”
“Still, that could mean many things. It could mean a trip to the Underworld. It could mean a death such as Leo suffered, where you pop right back to life. It could mean—”
“Now you’re being evasive,” [...] Jason’s stare was unrelenting. I suspected that in the weeks since his talk with Herophile, he had run every scenario. He was well past the bargaining stage in dealing with this prophecy. He had accepted that death meant death, the way Piper McLean had accepted that Oklahoma meant Oklahoma. I didn’t like that.
“Let’s assume you’re correct,” I said. “You didn’t tell Piper the truth because—?”
“You know what happened to her dad.” [...]
“Yes, but you can’t know how the prophecy will unfold.” [...]
Jason shrugged. “[...] I knew you’d be coming to find me. Herophile said so. If you’d just waited another week—”
“Then what?” I demanded. “You would’ve let us lead you cheerily off to your death? How would that have affected Piper’s peace of mind, once she found out?”
Jason’s ears reddened. It struck me just how young he was—no more than seventeen. [...] Despite all his experiences, was it fair of me to expect him to think logically, and consider everyone else’s feelings with perfect clarity, while pondering his own death?
I tried to soften my tone. “You don’t want Piper to die. I understand that. She wouldn’t want you to die. But avoiding prophecies never works. And keeping secrets from friends, especially deadly secrets…that really never works. It’ll be our job to face Caligula together, steal that homicidal maniac’s shoes, and get away without any five-letter words that start with D.”
The scar ticked at the corner of Jason’s mouth. “Donut?”
It’s hard to say for sure how big a part did Jason’s resignation play in sealing his fate. This is not the time for that discussion anyway, but I think it’s important to make note of the fact that Apollo really, really did not like it. That Jason’s resignation is in fact what scared Apollo the most.
I quoted the above passage almost in full because I think it exemplifies and summarizes better than almost anything Apollo’s views on prophecy.
Apollo thinks of prophecy as a beacon in the darkness. It spurs people into action. It lights up their way and pushes them forward, far from the safe stagnancy whose ultimate and truer expression is death (or immortality. But that too is a digression for another time). It doesn’t take away people’s choices: it gives them new ones.
It’s easy to forget, but Apollo is not just the god of prophecy; he is the god of knowledge and truth too. As much as he’s guilty of doing it himself, he does not actually believe in sticking your head in the sand.
"I warned you," a new voice said. [...]
"You dare come here?" Hades growled. "I should blast you to dust!"
"You cannot," the girl said. "The power of Delphi protects me." [...]
"You've killed the woman I loved!" Hades roared. "Your prophecy brought us to this.'" He loomed over the girl, but she didn't flinch.
"Zeus ordained the explosion to destroy the children," she said, "because you defied his will. I had nothing to do with it. And I did warn you to hide them sooner." [...]
"Perhaps I cannot bring back Maria. Nor can I bring you to an early death. But your soul is still mortal, and I can curse you."
All through the course of PJO, HOO and TOA we see Apollo’s oracle – his oracles plural, in fact: the Sibyl of Cumae and the Sibyl of Erythrae too in addition to the Pythia – share everything they know punctually and without fail. It’s their job to warn people about the future on Apollo’s behalf, despite the unwarranted backlash they get for it. Apollo himself is heavily implied to be the one who’s sending demigods their convenient prophetic dreams. And who else but Apollo could be the source of Octavian’s confidence that the Sibylline books had survived the fall of Rome, well before Percy, Hazel and Frank met Ella the harpy?
In TOA, we see Apollo share all that he learns as soon as he learns it, with each and every one of the people he can count on his side. Even when he thinks it will be detrimental, even when he fears their reaction. He still tells them.
The only times we see Apollo be anything less than forthcoming, it’s to cover up the fact that he legitimately does not have the answer. This became extremely clear in TOA, but Percy, who’s much more intuitive than a lot of people give him credit for, had figured it out already in TTC:
"But it's your Oracle," I protested. "Can't you tell us what the prophecy means?"
Apollo sighed. "You might as well ask an artist to explain his art, or ask a poet to explain his poem. It defeats the purpose. The meaning is only clear through the search."
"In other words, you don't know."
Apollo checked his watch. "Ah, look at the time! I have to run. [...]"
So, here’s the million dollar question: why would Apollo be opposed to Hal doing the same thing he himself always does? Sharing Knowledge? Giving a little girl a choice, a chance to save herself?
He wouldn’t. He is not the one who was against it. He is certainly not the one who wanted to see Hal punished for it.
This recontextualizes Halcyon’s words that “Apollo warned me to keep quiet,” because to speak about the future “would anger the gods.” This phrasing is not an indication of Apollo trying to shirk responsibility for the punishment he was threatening his son with. It’s the literal truth. Halcyon putting his powers to good use would anger the gods – not Apollo himself. Gods like Hades who cursed Apollo’s oracle for trying to warn him of imminent danger, or Zeus who stripped Apollo of his immortality for revealing a prophecy “prematurely”. Gods who should very much not be named lest they turn their attention to Apollo and his son.
In this light, I feel it’s pretty illuminating to look back on this line from THO, right out of Apollo’s own mouth:
How could I have been so foolish? Whenever I angered the other gods, those closest to me were struck down.
Of course, Zeus would have been perfectly capable of enacting the punishment himself, much like he'd done with Asclepius, but… with everything we know about Zeus’ parenting and ruling style after TOA… it’s not that hard to imagine he might have wanted to make a point here. It’s not hard to imagine that having to personally deliver the punishment to his own son might have been Apollo’s own punishment for his son’s transgression.
Remember how many times Apollo likens Zeus to Nero? Wouldn’t it make a scary amount of sense for this to be a “Cassius, I’m rewarding you by letting you cut Luguselwa's hands” move on Zeus’ part?
Apollo, in my generosity, I allow you to give your son the horrible news yourself.
And of course Apollo would have taken the offer. Of course he’d have accepted to take part in this sick game. What other choice did he have? Defying his father? Declaring war on the king of the gods? Should he have murdered some of Zeus’ favorite servants again? He’d done it for Asclepius, and still had not been able to win him a better deal than forever jail. Which, granted, would still have been a better deal than the one Halcyon got… provided that Apollo could achieve that kind of victory again.
Something else to consider: Halcyon almost certainly wasn’t Apollo’s only child at the time. And if Apollo had more children, then those children undoubtedly would have become more targets for Zeus’ anger, had their father dared provoke it any further.
Perhaps Apollo should have taken the risk. Perhaps Apollo chose wrong. But there was no path for him to choose that would not lead to the slaughter of innocents.
At least, this way, Apollo could see and speak to Hal one last time. This way, he could leave his son with a promise that his punishment would come to an end.
Because it’s obvious, from Halcyon’s account of his father’s words and actions, that Apollo had foreseen that Luke and Thalia would be the ones to break the curse, and that Hal would be able to escape his misery by dying to save the life of Zeus’ daughter, and therefore had taken care to set up the means for that potential future to be realized.
The book containing the recipe for greek fire, that Hal was strangely confident they would find on his bookshelves.
The safe containing the aegis replica, an item befitting Zeus’ progeny, that only a son of Hermes could successfully open, and that Hal remembers Apollo telling him “was sealed since before [Hal] was born”. Who could have done that, and why, if not Apollo so that Thalia could eventually take rightful ownership of it?
I’d dare suggest, even, that Apollo might have been the one who sent the goat, with the precise intention of luring Thalia and Luke into the trap, knowing that they would make it out thanks to Hal’s sacrifice, with a gift such to ensure that Thalia’s divine father would have no reason to object to the final outcome of Apollo's gamble, and every incentive to overlook how it had been orchestrated.
But of course Apollo would never tell his son “I had no choice” because WHEN DOES HE EVER. Five books and WE are the only souls he’s actually confessed being an abuse victim to, and even to us he’s given zero details. He never makes excuses for himself. He doesn’t think it matters that he could. He holds himself responsible anyway.
He believes that he must, because his father never does.
‘I know you think your punishment was harsh, Apollo.’
I did not answer. I tried my best to keep my expression polite and neutral.
‘But you must understand,’ Zeus continued, ‘only you could have overthrown Python. Only you could have freed the Oracles. And you did it, as I expected. The suffering, the pain along the way… regrettable, but necessary [...].’
I had no choice, is Zeus’ constant refrain. I can’t help you, he tells the demigods. “You did not ask for this,” he tells Jason. “I did not want it.” And yet who could have forced the hand of the king of the gods?
He tells his son “I can’t praise you.” He tells him “I can’t give you credit.” He says “someone must take the blame.” He says “it’s the lightning bolt that hurt you.” He says “you must understand. It was necessary. I had no choice.”
So Apollo refuses to claim the words for himself, even if they are true.
It’s very noble, but also incredibly misguided. It’s the root of all the communication problems he has with his children. The reason why he can’t bring himself to answer Will, and Kayla, and Austin, when they try to tell him that they want him in their lives, not just once or twice, but always, every day. Even they, who know they are loved, have absolutely no idea how much.
“Maybe Apollo meant we’re going to rescue you,” Thalia said.
Hal typed a new sentence: Or maybe I die today.
“Thank you, Mr. Cheerful,” I said. “I thought you could tell the future. You don’t know what will happen?”
Hal typed: I can’t look. It’s too dangerous. You can see what happened to me last time I tried to use my powers.
“Sure,” I grumbled. “Don’t take the risk. You might mess up this nice life you’ve got here.”
I knew that was mean. But the old man’s cowardice annoyed me. He’d let the gods use him as a punching bag for too long. It was time he fought back, preferably before Thalia and I became the leucrotae’s next meal.
Hal lowered his head. His chest was shaking, and I realized he was crying silently.
When Luke and Thalia meet him at the beginning of the tale, Halcyon is resigned to his fate, and terrified that if he tries to fight it he'll be punished even worse, somehow. He's lost all faith in his father's judgment, and, if he ever had any, in his father's promise of freedom too. He's surrendered to utter despair. He resists Luke's demands that he do something, anything, to help both them and himself.
Then Luke manages to open the safe, and Hal begins to realize that… maybe… just maybe... there’s a possibility that his father had not lied to him.
Hal showed us the short novel he’d written: You’re the ones!! You actually got the treasure!! I can’t believe it!! That safe has been sealed since before I was born!! Apollo told me my curse would end when the owner of the treasure claimed it!! If you’re the owner—
He's still terrified. He struggles to let himself dare hope. But eventually he finds the courage to do the right thing once again: use his talent to save the life of these kids who don't deserve to die.
He reads Thalia's future.
And then he reads Luke's.
I could feel Hal’s pulse in my fingers—one, two, three.
His eyes flew open. He yanked his hands away and stared at me in terror.
“Okay,” I said. My tongue felt like sandpaper. “I’m guessing you didn’t see anything good.”
It’s in that moment, as he finds himself in the exact same position his father Apollo had once been, seeing the terrible tragedy in this child’s future that he knows, in spite of his best efforts, he won’t be able to avert… It’s in that moment that Hal finally understands.
Hal picked up his green leather diary. He gestured for me to follow him. We walked to the closet doorway, where Hal took a pen from his jacket and flipped through the book. I saw pages and pages of neat, cramped handwriting. Finally Hal found an empty page and scribbled something.
He handed the book to me.
The note read, Luke, I want you to take this diary. It has my predictions, my notes about the future, my thoughts about where I went wrong. I think it might help you.
I shook my head. “Hal, this is yours. Keep it.”
He took back the book and wrote, You have an important future. Your choices will change the world. You can learn from my mistakes, continue the diary. It might help you with your decisions.
“What decisions?” I asked. “What did you see that scared you so badly?”
His pen hovered over the page for a long time. I think I finally understand why I was cursed, he wrote. Apollo was right. Sometimes the future really is better left a mystery.
“Hal, your father was a jerk. You didn’t deserve—”
Hal tapped the page insistently.
We are not made privy to Hal’s thought processes in detail. Apollo was right, he writes, and he bristles when Luke tries to protest that notion. He taps the page insistently. What is he trying to communicate? Surely he can’t think that Apollo was right to warn him off of trying to use his gift to save people?
Especially because… Halcyon is at this very moment once again defying fate to try and save someone. He is at this very moment trying to save Luke from the terrible future he’s seen.
He knows he doesn’t know enough. He knows he can’t tell Luke what to do. Luke will have to make his own choices. But Hal can make sure those choices will be as informed as possible. Hal wants to give him a chance. He wants to give him hope, something to hang onto when he will be tried. He wants to give Luke what his father had given him.
Because Hal understands now. Not everything, of course, no. He, and Luke and Thalia too, are still missing the most important pieces of the puzzle. But, clearly, Hal understands enough. Enough to make peace in his heart with his father. Enough to trust that he will get the release his father had promised him in death. Enough to die with a prayer in honor of his father on his lips, quite literally dedicating his heroic sacrifice to him.
I heard Halcyon Green, shouting a battle cry: “For Apollo!”
We have no idea what kind of relationship Hal and Apollo had once upon a time. We don’t know what the tone of Hal and Apollo’s last conversation was. Did Apollo allow his heartbreak to show on his face? Did he tell Hal how sorry he was?
Certainly, he would not have blamed Zeus, and he would not have tried to exculpate himself. Which is why Halcyon still ultimately thinks this was Apollo's decision.
And yet, something peculiar happens when Hal narrates his conversations with Apollo. "My father warned me," he says, "my father cursed me". But in between those we get "then the gods set the leucrotae to guard me". The gods. There’s that phrasing again. And it does make me wonder... is this how Apollo presented the whole thing to Hal? Are these Apollo’s own words?
I have to say, I really can see it. This is the will of the gods, Apollo would have said, and just... never specified but NOT MINE. Because he felt that he had no right to Hal’s understanding, let alone Hal’s forgiveness.
Did Hal pick up on that subconsciously anyway?
We don’t know what kind of relationship Hal and Apollo had once upon a time. We know, because Hal tells us, that Hal had faithfully heeded his father’s warning, until the day he met that little girl, and found that his conscience would not allow him to let her die. We know that in the end Hal forgave his father. That Hal, in his last seconds of life, took comfort in his father’s name.
Why would Hal do such a 180 on Apollo in such a short amount of time? Just based on the realization that Apollo had indeed foreseen all this, and prepared accordingly? Because of what he’d seen when he looked into Luke’s future? It’s a hell of a leap from “Apollo can’t punish me any worse than he already has” to “Apollo was right”, and one that really there’s no way to make logical sense of… unless Hal had just been waiting for an excuse, any excuse, to reconcile himself with the memory of his father. Unless, all this time, Hal had wished nothing more than to be able to believe in his father again.
We don’t know what kind of relationship Hal and Apollo had once upon a time. But Hal’s change of heart, and his behavior leading up to his end, would seem to suggest rather a good one. Not too dissimilar, perhaps, from the one Apollo shares with his kids in the present.
Or perhaps Hal was just scared and desperate as he readied himself to die, and grasping for straws because straws were all he got. For all we know, that’s possible too.
But that is not how Hal appears to Luke in his last moments.
He met my eyes, and I finally understood what he was planning. “Don’t,” I said. “We can all make it out.” Hal pursed his lips. He wrote, We both know that’s impossible. I can communicate with the leucrotae. I am the logical choice for bait. You and Thalia wait in the closet. I’ll lure the monsters into the bathroom. I’ll buy you a few seconds to reach the exit panel before I set off the explosion. It’s the only way you’ll have time.
“No,” I said.
But his expression was grim and determined. He didn’t look like a cowardly old man anymore. He looked like a demigod, ready to go out fighting.
I couldn’t believe he was offering to sacrifice his life for two kids he’d just met, especially after he’d suffered for so many years. And yet, I didn’t need pen and paper to see what he was thinking. This was his chance at redemption. He would do one last heroic thing, and his curse would end today, just as Apollo had foreseen.
He scribbled something and handed me the diary. The last word read: Promise.
I took a deep breath, and closed the book. “Yeah. I promise.”
In his last moments, Hal is full of dignity and hope. He finally finds the courage to stand up tall and proud of himself again. I feel it would be doing Hal a disservice to assume that, in those last moments, his renewed faith in his father was grounded in delusion rather than truth.
What was he trying to communicate to Luke in their last exchange? What did he think Luke could learn from his diary? What is the promise that he asked Luke to make? We’ll never know. Luke chooses to not tell us.
Luke chooses to erase Hal’s last words to him from the narrative, and substitute his own.
I couldn’t shake my grief.
Promise, Halcyon Green had written.
I promise, Hal, I thought. I will learn from your mistakes. If the gods ever treat me that badly, I will fight back.
There’s a lot to be said about the way Halcyon and Luke influence each other in opposite directions. About the way Halcyon’s death and Luke’s death mirror each other. About the way Halcyon’s relationship with Apollo mirrors Luke’s relationship with Hermes. I know @tsarinatorment has excellent thoughts re: this, and not only this, that I hope she will share.
But for now this is already long enough, and so to bring us back to my original point… No, the Halcyon story, taken as it is, does not gel with TOA at all. But once you dig just a little deeper under the surface of it… I’d dare say it becomes impossible to rule it out of canon, because it fits too well within canon. It fills in the narrative blanks left by Apollo, who never tells us the details of Zeus’ abuse, and therefore… never tells us about Hal.
To tell us about Hal would require Apollo to admit that he had no choice. No good ones at least. It would require Apollo to admit that he’s not at fault.
But how can he not be at fault? He literally did do this. It was his words that cursed his son. His hands that delivered the instruments of torture.
So Apollo doesn’t talk about Halcyon. But when he calls himself a terrible father, when he berates himself for his failures as a parent, as a person, as a god, you bet he’s holding himself responsible for Halcyon too.
And in this light it’s interesting, I think, to note that despite how Apollo feels re: prophecy there are no known present day children of Apollo who possess the power to look into the future. There’s only Octavian, who is a legacy, and whose gift is implied to have been passed down his family line, and perhaps Georgina, who is in all likelihood a legacy too, possibly even descended from a different branch of Octavian’s family.
We know from Hephaestus that sometimes gods can choose to suppress the transmission of a specific ability to their children. Hephaestus did it with fire, and I don’t think it’s farfetched to imagine Apollo would have chosen to do it with prophecy after Halcyon. Again I know Tsari has given this far more thought than I have, so I pass the metaphorical mic to her.
Finally, I want to talk about how this whole novella is basically a concentrated allegory of TOA, featuring Halcyon as a stand-in for Apollo himself. Forever trapped in his childhood home full of monsters who have stolen and perverted his voice, and that he can never escape because they are inextricably tied to him, and him to them. Punished for the crime of having a functioning moral compass and having chosen to follow it, and after years of death & tragedy that are framed as a direct result of that choice... he has almost completely internalized the idea that he might actually have been in the wrong. He's surrendered. He’s not only accepted the slaughter but has even become complicit in it. He’s become a monster himself.
And then we get Thalia & Luke who are a stand in for all the people Apollo bonds with on his journey, who give him hope again, who reaffirm his conviction that there IS, there HAS TO BE a better way, and reignite his will to fight. After all, he realizes, what does he have left to lose?
I turned my face to the sky. “If you want to punish me, Father, be my guest, but have the courage to hurt me directly, not my mortal companion. BE A MAN!”
To me this novella absolutely reads like a first outline of the TOA series that Rick might have later decided to flesh out and expand upon. The core themes, the central ideas are all in there.
But Halcyon can only find redemption through death. The narrative denies him the chance to survive and do better. He’s only a man, and for him the odds are impossible. He dies thinking that on some level he deserves it – he brought this on himself. He dies still thinking that maybe he was wrong to save that little girl's life.
I wonder if in the first draft of TOA Apollo was meant to die at the end like Halcyon did. In a way he did die, in fact. But he’s a god, and for a god no odds are impossible. So Apollo is reborn through the power that he finally allowed himself to reclaim, because he finally has learned to believe that he was right to want to use it. He was right to want to help people. He was right. He learns the lesson that Halcyon never could. He is afforded the opportunity to keep trying.
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Lately I have been thinking a lot about how the northwestern frontier of the War of 1812 is ultimately part of the Sixty Years' War for control of the Great Lakes region.
Settler colonial powers clashed with each other (with other overlapping conflicts like the Seven Years' War); and numerous First Nations/Indigenous people joined one side or another in a fight against genocidal removal and the loss of their culture. The frontier was already militarised before the War of 1812.
When he turned his attention to politics, General Harrison specifically emphasised his 1811 win over Tecumseh's confederacy ("Tippecanoe and Tyler too") where he destroyed the Indigenous community of Prophetstown—not his impressive role in the War of 1812 against the British at Fort Meigs.
In the introduction to his 1985 book Men of Patriotism, Courage & Enterprise! Fort Meigs in the War of 1812, Larry L. Nelson discusses his reliance on primary sources in the form of letters, diaries, and journals from the (settler) participants, and how this affects the interpretation of a complicated history:
The use of these primary sources, however, often serves to accentuate the underlying and widely held prejudices of the times. The unsympathetic treatment of the Native American is a case in point. Scorn for the Indian runs as a common thread throughout much of the writing of the period, and is inescapably found in some of the excerpts quoted in this work. For much of white North America during the period, the American Indian was the object of fear and hatred held in equal portion.
The United States already looks pretty Not Great in the long view of the War of 1812—all of our enslaved people constantly fleeing to the British, the bungled invasion of Upper Canada and the burning of York—and there's another dark legacy in the frontier warfare. No wonder the western parts of the United States were so eager for a war with Britain: because it was mainly a war for the expansion of settlement, and there was propaganda depicting the Indigenous population as allies of the British. The New England states wanted to avoid war and almost seceded from the US.
I feel sympathy for many of the defenders of Fort Meigs, particularly the ordinary enlisted men. I don't think they were monsters, even if they were fighting for their nation in a long campaign to break old treaties and expand settlement at the expense of violently displacing native people. The Fort Meigs museum did a nice job with the different perspectives on the conflict, although it's mostly the voices of the US military because they have all of the diaries and letters and other primary sources.
I only just learned that Tecumseh's verbal sketch of Henry Proctor as "a fat animal with its tail between its legs" was in Shawnee, not in English. Tecumseh was revered as an orator, but so few of his words seem to have been written down (that was one of my takeaways from Tecumseh and the Prophet: The Shawnee Brothers Who Defied a Nation, by Peter Cozzens).
There are many challenges for me as a historian, but I am increasingly fascinated by the northwestern theatre of the War of 1812. (And now living there, getting to personally visit these military history sites).
#war of 1812#fort meigs#tecumseh#military history#us history#indigenous#settler colonialism#ohio#sixty years war#tecumseh's confederacy#old northwest#the war of 1812 ties into the napoleonic wars but also this violent settler conflict!#and i want to be careful how i am approaching it and whose voices are informing me
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excerpts from lord byron’s letters that read like tumblr posts from the 1800s
(diary version: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/708562718092836864/random-excerpts-from-lord-byrons-diaries-that)
“We of the craft (poets) are all crazy. Some are affected by gaiety, others by melancholy, but all are more or less touched.”
“Remember me to yourself when drunk. I am not worth a sober thought.”
“Why I came here, I know not; where I shall go, it is useless to inquire. In the midst of myriads of the living & the dead worlds — stars, systems, infinity — why should I be anxious about an atom?”
“I only go out to get me a fresh appetite for being alone.”
“I have imbibed such a love for money that I keep some sequins in a drawer to count, and cry over them once a week.”
“I do not believe in any religion. I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.”
“Venice and I agree very well - in the mornings I study Armenian, and in the evenings I go out sometimes - and indulge in coition always.”
“The great object of life is sensation — to feel that we exist, even though in pain. It is this ‘craving void’ which drives us to gaming — to battle — to travel — to intemperate but keenly felt pursuits of every description, whose principal attraction is the agitation inseparable from their accomplishment.”
“If I could always read I should never feel the want of company.”
“When I am ill or unlucky I philosophize as well as I can.”
“Cant is so much stronger than cunt.”
"I have such a detestation of cant ... that I make myself appear rather worse than better than I am."
“There is something pagan in me that I cannot shake off. In short, I deny nothing, but doubt everything.”
“Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.”
“I can never get people to understand that poetry is the expression of excited passion, and that there is no such thing as a life of passion any more than a continuous earthquake or an eternal fever. Besides, who would ever shave themselves in such a state?”
“Why should Queens not be whores? every Whore is a Quean.” [Context: 1. Queen Caroline was being tried for adultery 2. “Quean” was another word for “prostitute”]
“But what is Hope? Nothing but the paint on the face of Existence; the least touch of truth rubs it off, and then we see what a hollow-cheeked harlot we have got hold of.”
“To be perfectly original one should think much and read little, and this is impossible, for one must have read before one has learnt to think.”
“I doubt sometimes whether a quiet and unagitated life would have suited me - yet I sometimes long for it.”
“I think the worst woman that ever existed would have made a man of very passable reputation. They are all better than us, and their faults such as they are must originate with ourselves.”
“I should, many a good day, have blown my brains out, but for the recollection that it would have given pleasure to my mother-in-law.”
“Hate is by far the greatest pleasure; men love in haste, but detest in leisure.”
“Like other parties of the kind, it was first silent, then talky, then argumentative, then disputatious, then unintelligible, then altogethery, then inarticulate, and then drunk.”
“In the last two years I have been at Venice, I have spent about five thousand pounds, and I need not have spent a third of this, had it not been that I have a passion for women which is expensive in its variety every where, but less so in Venice than in other cities.”
“I am so changeable, being everything by turns and nothing long, – I am such a strange mélange of good and evil, that it would be difficult to describe me.”
[on a lover, Margarita Cogni] “I forgot to mention that she was very devout, and would cross herself if she heard the prayer-time strike — sometimes when that ceremony did not appear to be much in unison with what she was then about.”
[on his future wife] “I am quite irresolute — and undecided — if I were sure of myself (not of her) I would go — but I am not — & never can be — and what is still worse I have no judgement — & less common sense than an infant — this is not affected humility…”
“I was the fashion when she first came out; I had the character of being a great rake, and was a great dandy — both of which young ladies like. She married me from vanity, and the hope of reforming and fixing me.”
“I read ‘Glenarvon,’ too, by Caro Lamb — God damn!”
"I have seen three men's heads and a child's foreskin cut off in Italy.”
“What could I do? – a foolish girl – in spite of all I could say or do – would come after me... I could not exactly play the Stoic with a woman who had scrambled 800 miles to unphilosophize me.”
“I have fallen in love, which, next to falling into the canal (which would be of no use, as I can swim), is the best or the worst thing I could do.”
(on the possibility of spies being sent for him during the Greek Revolution) “If these Gentlemen have any undue interest and discover my weak side — viz — a propensity to be governed — and were to set a pretty woman or a clever woman about me — with a turn for political or any other sort of intrigue — why — they would make a fool of me — no very difficult matter probably even without such an intervention. But if I can keep passion — at least that passion — out of the question (which may be the more easy as I left my heart in Italy) they will not weather me with quite so much facility.”
[on a Venetian lover, Marianna Segatti] “I am sure if I put a poniard into the hand of this one, she would plunge it where I told her, — and into me, if I offended her. I like this kind of animal, and am sure that I should have preferred Medea to any woman that ever breathed.”
[in response to a fan letter] “You tell me that you wished to know me better, because you liked my writing. I think you must be aware that a writer is in general very different from his productions, and always disappoints those who expect to find in him qualities more agreeable than those of others; I shall certainly not be lessened in my vanity, as a scribbler, by the reflection that a work of mine has given you pleasure; and, to preserve the impression in its favour, I will not risk your good opinion, by inflicting my acquaintance upon you.”
#and indulge in coition always.#literature#english literature#aesthetic#dark academia#poetry#lord byron#romanticism#byronposting#writing#history#funny#quotes#reading#lit#letters#1800s#byron#humour#meme#history meme#litblr#literature quotes#books#quote#words#writers#art#literary history
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OKAY BUT Trent Crimm, Independent bringing up the fabulous, inimitable, iconic Queen Clarisse Renaldi - Princess Diaries girlies assemble! - Queen Clarisse entered into an arranged marriage with Rupert Renaldi, in spite of being in love with her best friend Joseph.
And this excerpt from the character bio?? HELLO??
'Clarisse and Joseph remained deeply in love with each other and although they kept it hidden from the public, several people, including Clarisse's right-hand woman, Charlotte Kutaway were aware of their true feelings for one another.'
HIGGINS IS GOING TO BE THE FIRST ONE TO CLOCK TEDBECCA I FEEL IT IN MY SOUL
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